The Land of We
by kitteninthesky12
Summary: Andy is an up-and-coming reporter for the Mirror when she takes on an assignment that could be just the break she's looking for. The only problem is that the subject, one Miranda Priestly, has become somewhat of a recluse since leaving her post as Editor in Chief of Runway.


_**AN: **_**Hi *waves* So this is my submission for the July Fic-a-thon. It was kind of hard to get up because I got into a car accident and I'm kind of stranded with family 5 hours away from my ****laptop, so I made my girlfriend post it on LJ, but yeah. Here it is finally! I hope you like it! And I hope everyone's excited for Menzosarres's fic today! Cause Mel's the best ever :D**

**Thanks to XV for the beta you rock and your comments we super helpful!**

**Chapter 1**

One Andy Sachs sat in the archives at the offices of The Mirror flipping through earlier editions of the paper. She had managed to swing a job with the publication upon first arriving in New York. It wasn't The Times, but Andy felt it was a good jumping off point. They had been really impressed by her resume (she had been editor in chief of the Daily Northwestern, after all) and she was doing what she loved and she was passionate about it. Naturally being a rookie reporter meant dealing with truly impossible hours and getting saddled with shit stories that no one else wanted to tackle.

The insane hours had been wreaking havoc on her personal life since day one. In fact, she and her boyfriend had somewhat-recently broken up and he'd moved to Boston to take a position as a sous chef because he couldn't accept that her dedication lay in her work as well as his happiness. Sure, she was always either at the office, chasing down a story, or exhausted and passed out asleep; and yeah it was a rare miracle that she found time to see her friends or spend any real time with Nate; and she wasn't denying that she might have missed a birthday here or an anniversary there; but he'd known all along what this new job would entail, so if he couldn't handle Andy working hard at something that would get her the job she'd been dreaming of then he was just a selfish ass and good riddance to his job in Boston and his new girlfriend (even though it was really too soon to be seeing someone new, in Andy's opinion.)

Sighing as she shuffled through pages of back issues Andy thought about the stories she got stuck writing. They hardly qualified as hard hitting news. Andy knew she had to put in the time to be able to write about things she really enjoyed, but the story she was currently assigned to was starting to grate on her nerves. She had been researching an article about the Italian mob bribing people to cover up their shady business deals. As it turned out the reporter who was writing the column about crime was one of the people taking bribes from the mob. The reporter, Steven Gregory, would take bribes from the mob and in return he would conveniently forget to report on any crimes that could be linked to the mob. Needless to say Mr. Gregory was immediately let go from the paper. Unfortunately, Andy was forced to fill the space in the paper that had been vacated (according to John Graham, her editor, the void was her fault anyway.)

So now Andy found herself working on a series about top executives who hard recently passed on the baton in addition to her usual workload. So far she'd done an article on Aaron Paradis whose advertising business was taken over by his former wife and David Warner, Jr. who had stepped down as the head of Warner Textile Industries allowing his daughter to inherit the company. She was trolling through the Mirror archives (which, or course, had yet to be digitized) to try to find someone else noteworthy who had recently removed themselves from the pressure of being in the spotlight, when her scanning caught something interesting from a couple years back.

Fashion maven, Miranda Priestly had suddenly stepped down from her position as editor in chief of Runway magazine without any sort of warning. All the responses to this event seem to be riddled with shock, no one appeared to be able to explain why Miranda had stepped down so suddenly. Miranda herself refused to say anything on the subject to the media. No press releases, no statement congratulating her replacement. In fact, Andy found, as she uncovered articles from the following months, Miranda seemed to have dropped off of the map entirely. Of course, this only piqued Andy's interest in the woman. After deciding she could continue her research on Miranda Priestly from the comfort of her laptop, she left the musty basement archives to return to her desk.

* * *

The next evening Andy sat down to dinner and drinks with Lily and Doug at one of their favourite Italian dives. They rarely ever found the time to all get together so this time was precious to all of them. After Andy and Nate broke up Andy had worried that her friendships with Lily and Doug would suffer. In the beginning they had mostly taken Nate's side, but after a while they began to realise that the situation had not been so much that Andy was in the wrong and Nate was made to suffer, but that Nate had more time to tell them of his and Andy's relationship woes, so their perspective on the situation had been fairly one sided. Either way, they all worked it out and tried to get together for drinks, or a meal, or coffee whenever their schedules allowed it.

As they ate and drank they chatted amiably about their jobs and how busy they all were. After telling her friends how she got saddled with a column to fill on top of her usual fare, Andy told the pair of her curiosity about Miranda Priestly.

To which Doug immediately exclaimed, "Oh my god! That woman is an absolute legend."

"Yeah, but, from what I've read, no one seems to know why she left fashion or what she's doing now." Andy replied.

"I know, it's a mystery. She just up and left Runway, without a fuss or a fight. And now this Jacqueline Follet woman is running the magazine into the ground." Doug said mournfully.

"Is she really?" Andy questioned around a bite of baked ziti.

"Well, maybe not _into the ground_, but the magazine certainly lacks the artistry it had when Miranda Priestly ran things. Now it's just another fashion magazine." Doug answered with a shrug.

"Hmm, and how do you know all this, Dougie?" Lily asked, bumping Doug's shoulder with her own.

"I'm actually a girl. No, but really, I care about fashion." Doug replied defensively, but then smiled and said, "And it wouldn't hurt either of you two to start caring about fashion, you know." Lily smacked him on the shoulder playful while Andy rolled her eyes.

"She divorced her husband right after she left Runway, too. It turned into a big media scandal. Everyone was speculating about whether he was leaving her because she lost her fortune when she left Runway." Doug added.

"Yeah, I saw that there was _much _more media attention given to her divorce than anything else. The coverage of the divorce seemed to eclipse news of her stepping down as Editor in Chief." _Maybe she planned for that outcome... _Andy mused.

"You know, they say she has this list..." Doug said wistfully.

"Miranda Priestly?" Andy asked.

"Yeah. They say she has a list of designers, photographers, writers, models, anyone in the business, really. And they say she could ask any of those people to turn down a job and they would because she made them, she created them. But she hasn't done that... Yet. She does however show up to the occasional event in fabulous garments made by top designers intended only for her that no one's ever seen before." Doug trailed off pensively.

After that their conversation branched off to other topics, but Andy's mind still strayed to thoughts of Miranda Priestly.

* * *

Several days later, after a ton of research, Andy happened upon the phone number of Miranda's previous personal assistant, one Emily Charlton. Andy held her phone in her hand, the number already typed in, debating whether or not she should call. She reasoned that it might not even be a current phone number for the woman, but in the end curiosity won out and she pressed the call button, holding the phone up to her ear, trying not to feel nervous.

"Miranda Priestly's personal assistant." Came a very self-important sounding British voice.

"Wait, you're still her assistant?" Andy asked, shocked.

"Excuse me, who _is_ this?" Andy could hear the condescension dripping through the phone.

"Oh, right! Uh, I'm Andrea Sachs. I'm a reporter with the Mirror."

"And where did a sad excuse for a reporter from that rag even find this number? You know what, it doesn't matter. Lose it immediately. I don't have time for this. And neither does Miranda." The woman said sharply.  
"Wait, please. I just had a few questions." Andy practically begged.

"Neither I nor Miranda Priestly speaks to the media, especially not the likes of you. Don't call this number again!" The line went dead. _At least I learned that Emily Charlton stayed on as her personal assistant after she left Runway... _Andy thought.

* * *

After some more digging Andy uncovered the number of Nigel Kipling, Miranda's art director during her reign as editor and chief of Runway. According to Andy's research, he had left for a job as a partner at James Holt International around the same time Miranda was ousted as editor in chief. She wondered briefly if his promotion had anything to do with Miranda Priestly leaving the magazine. Andy decided it was in her best interest to call and find out for herself.

"Nigel Kipling's office. Speaking?" Came a vivacious male voice.

"Hello, this is Andy Sachs. I'm a reporter with the Mirror." Andy cautiously introduced herself.

"Oh, a reporter you say? How fascinating! Now, do you-"

"That's quite enough of that." Another voice cut in.

"Oh, um, Mr. Kipling, I-" Stammered the first voice

"Yes, yes, Michael, it's fine. I'll take the call myself." Said the second voice as the click of someone hanging up the phone was audible. The second voice then addressed Andy, "Hello, this is Nigel Kipling speaking. I'm sorry about my assistant, he's new and he's _a raging gossip_!" He seemed to shout the last part away from the phone, probably at the assistant in question Andy supposed. "Anyway, how can I help you?"  
"Hello Mr. Kipling, my name is Andy Sachs, I'm a reporter with the New York Mirror. I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time."

"Please, call me Nigel," He said amiably, "And I'm between meetings at the moment, so yes, I suppose I could answer a few questions about James Holt International. Are you calling to ask about the new scent collection we've just released?"

"No, um, actually, I wanted to ask about your previous employment." Andy admitted.

"You called to ask about Runway?" Nigel asked, sounding a bit taken aback.

"Yes, well, specifically about Miranda Priestly." She elaborated.

"Oh, yes... Well, it's been a while since anyone has asked me about the Dragon Lady. I doubt I know much more than you, my dear."

"I noticed that you left Runway around the same time she did." Andy offered.

"That's true, but the two events aren't related, to my knowledge." Nigel replied.

"Do you know why she left Runway?"

"Officially? She stepped down of her own volition."

"And unofficially?" Andy urged.

"Irv Ravitz, the chairman of Elias Clarke, had been trying to dethrone the Ice Queen for some time."

"You think he succeeded?"

"Perhaps he finally did. It wouldn't surprise me." Nigel sigh wearily. "Poor Miranda was heartbroken. She never said anything, but her already icy demeanour dipped below freezing and then hit sub-zero. Then she divorced Stephen, moved out to the Hamptons, and has practically become a recluse. Runway was everything to Miranda. I can't imagine what it must have done to her to lose the magazine..." The former art director divulged to Andy. Then away from the phone he said, "Oh, he's here? Ok, show him in then." then back into the receiver he said, "Sorry Andy, gotta go. It was great gossiping with you. Hope you use the information wisely."

"Thank you for your time!" Andy blurted quickly just before the line went dead.

* * *

Andy knew that what she was doing was most likely a terrible idea. She knew, and yet she was doing it anyway. It was her day off and somehow she'd convinced herself that it would be a good idea to rent a car and drive to the Hamptons. Specifically Miranda Priestly's house in the Hamptons (It hadn't taken too much searching to find the address). She had figured that either she would get the interview she longed for, or she'd enjoy a nice drive and treat herself to lunch on her day off. But now, it was really beginning to sink in that she was driving to _the _Miranda Priestly's residence and Andy's confidence was dwindling quickly. She was already forty five minutes into the two hour drive, though, so she resigned herself to listening to music and enjoying the scenery as she followed her Mapquest directions straight into the dragon's lair.

* * *

"This is a private residence! You cannot simply come 'round banging down doors." Said a harsh British voice Andy recognized as the door swung open in response to her knocking revealing a thin redhead in chic clothing.

"Um, hi, I'm Andy Sachs, I was wondering if I could-" Andy began, putting out her arm to shake hands, which Emily completely ignored.

"Oh my _god_! You-you're that reporter from the Mirror or what-have-you. God, you're even more pathetic in person!" The assistant said with a harsh, nervous giggle. "What on earth are you wearing? Never mind, don't answer that, I'm _sure_I don't want to know. It doesn't matter anyway, you must leave this instant before she sees you." She rambled quickly, then began to close the door in Andy's face.

"No, wait! I-"

"Emily. Who is it?" Inquired a soft, icy voice.

"Oh, um, Miranda, well you see. She's-she's some kind of reporter and I _told_her over the phone that we have absolutely nothing to say to her and yet here she is on your porch like some kind of lost dog and I-" Emily hastened to explain.

"That's enough Emily. I'll deal with this, since I clearly have to deal with everything around here. Get me Donatella. I have to discuss that regrettable _thing _she's designed for me for the gala in April."

"Yes Miranda." Emily said quickly before scurrying off in her tall pumps. Then Miranda Priestly, in all her resplendent glory, stood before Andy; and Andy found that she was utterly speechless. She'd seen pictures during her research, of course, but not a single one had even begun to do the woman justice. She was a vision in a white cowl neck sweater, form fitting black slacks, and nude 3 inch pumps.

"And you are?" The former editor asked in a bored voice.

"Uh, my name's Andy Sachs, I'm a reporter with the New York Mirror." Andy said finally finding her voice.

"Hmm... You're obviously not a member of the fashion section of your little publication since you have no style or sense of fashion... So what could you possibly want to interview _me_ for?" If Andy could have mustered any feelings other than awe and slight arousal at Miranda's presence then she probably would have felt rather affronted by the vicious comments.

"Well, uh, I write a column about powerful people who have recently stepped down from their post and-"

"Mm, I see well then I've nothing to-"

"But I was looking over the reporting about your stepping down and th-there's clearly more to it than was ever reported on." Andy rushed to continue, fidgeting slightly with her hair.

After a moment of silently gazing at Andy in contemplation Miranda said, "Why don't you stay for lunch? You already made the trip... Anyway, there's nothing I could tell you that you haven't already dug up, I'm sure." She said looking at her watch then turning back into the house expecting Andy to follower her.

"Yes! I mean, I'd love to, thank you. I hope it isn't too much trouble."

"Nonsense I'll have Emily inform Elena that we have a guest. It's no trouble at all."

Andy followed Miranda up a flight of stairs. Miranda stood in the open doorway of what Andy assumed was Emily's office and said, "Emily tell Elena I'm having a guest for lunch today. Do it now." As Andy followed Miranda into a room across the hall she could see Emily gaping after them wide-eyed.

"So-?" Miranda asked as she gracefully settled herself at a glass and metal desk, she then motioned for Andy to take one of the chairs in front of her.

"Andy. Well, Andrea, but everyone call me Andy, uh-"

"Andréa, what kind of information is an intrepid young report such as yourself interested in discovering that you could not have simply uncovered by scouring the reporting from shortly after my departure from Runway?" The way Miranda said her name made Andy's heart skip a beat.

"There's actually not that much out there, to be honest. You didn't answer anyone's questions about it at the time."

"And what makes you think I'm willing to do so now?"

"You, uh... Let me into your home?"

"I put out a statement, you know."

"You mean Irving Ravitz put out a statement on your behalf? What was that about anyway? From what I've seen it seemed that he was really pulling the strings behind the whole operation." Miranda simply sniffed haughtily in reply, but Andy had a sneaking suspicion that it was more of an impressed sniff than one born of annoyance.

"I was also wondering what made you completely disappear from the public eye, more or less. Surely there are other ways you could be influential other than as Editor in Chief of Runway?" Andy continued.

"I have my reasons." Came the non-answer as the former fashion maven stood to gaze out of the window of her office with one hand planted firmly on her hip.

"And, uh, did you divorce your last husband to redirect the media frenzy away from your departure from Runway?" Andy decided to just come out and ask the question that had been nagging at her conscience for days, since Miranda seemed to appreciate boldness. This turned out to be the wrong choice entirely. Andy watched as Miranda's eyes grew hard and cold and seemed to give Andy a chill. The delicately painted lips pursed as the steel blue eyes pierced Andy's very being.

"_Excuse me?_" Miranda questioned her voice quiet, but penetrating. Andy, searched frantically for something to say to ameliorate the situation, but she was quickly realizing she had dug herself a hole without any way to get out. Luckily she was saved by the bell, or rather, the assistant. Emily chose that moment to pop her head through the open door.

"Terribly sorry to interrupt, but Elena says lunch is ready for you." Miranda turned her icy glare on Emily and the redhead quickly scurried away knowingly.

"That's all I'm going to say on the subject of my departure from Runway, Andréa. I expect that having a pleasant lunch won't be too out of the question?"

"No, no of course not. I guess I didn't really think you'd answer many of my questions, I didn't even think you'd answer the door to be honest."

"Very well." Miranda said and waltzed out of the door expecting Andy to follow.

* * *

They did in fact have a pleasant luncheon. They spent most of it discussing Andy's work. Well, Andy talked about her work and Miranda suggested people she ought to talk to in order to pick up some freelance jobs rather than work at, "that little ragtag publication currently employing you." Andy enjoyed herself thoroughly, who would have imagined the 'Dragon Lady' to be such pleasant company? The cub reporter excused herself directly after they finished their meal, not wanting to impose any further. They said their goodbyes and Andy shivered when Miranda practically purred the words, "Goodbye Andréa. I trust you can find your way out." Andy quickly decided that Miranda's sex appeal was severely understated in every article ever written about her. As Andy was making her way to the front door a hand grasped her arm firmly pulling her into an alcove.

"Whoa, what?" Andy sputtered as she almost tripped over her own feet.

"Shh, Keep your voice down!" Emily hissed.

"Oh, Emily, what are you doing?" Andy asked looking around the small alcove off of the main hallway.

"I _need _to speak with you."

"Alright, well, you have me cornered, so shoot."

"I mean, off the record."

"Uh, yeah sure."

"You should know, Miranda has been behaving rather... Well, _eccentrically_ since leaving her post as editor in chief at Runway. Which,of course, is the only explanation for why she's given you the time of day to begin with. Now I don't understand why she's done that, apparently she's decided you aren't a total psycho, but I'm not convinced. So don't go doing anything idiotic. Miranda may not be running the top fashion magazine in the world anymore, but that doesn't mean she won't end your career faster than you can blink those absurdly large eyes of yours, you understand?"

"A-are you threatening me? And what do you mean _absurdly _large eyes?"

"I'm simply stating facts. Whatever you write about her had _better _be above board, or I can promise you you will regret ever having heard the name Miranda Priestly."

* * *

As it turned out Andy regretted having ever heard the name Miranda Priestly regardless of Emily's ominous warnings. By the time she'd taken back the rental car and returned to her apartment it was nearly seven in the evening. Andy wearily climbed the stairs to her apartment, opened a bottle of wine, carried the bottle of wine and a glass over to the couch, grabbed her laptop, and prepared to start writing her column. She'd thought she would have an easy evening of writing ahead of her, but she'd assumed wrong and was instead faced with thoughts of the gorgeous Ice Queen and her beguiling ways. Andy became consumed with day dreams of herself and the former editor in rather compromising positions. Despite the reporter's intentions of being productive she simply ended up finishing the bottle of wine, stumbling into bed, and dreaming of a illogically stunning, silver haired devil.

**_AN: _so there are a few random references to things (like the two people Andy had already written columns about...) they're not even from the right decades or anything they're just the only people I could come up with, so I wasn't really trying to be clever. Well... Maybe a bit clever... It didn't really work though :)**


End file.
